


It’s not always only black and white

by KyokoUchiha



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keith with white hair, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Pre-Relationship, klance fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 03:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12099867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyokoUchiha/pseuds/KyokoUchiha
Summary: ** Lance is still freezing in just his PJs, but refuses to demand his property back, because Keith actually needs it more right now.He’s back to his stoic, closed off self, hood back over his head to hide the white tresses, hands buried deep in the front pockets. He looks entirely too small in Lance’s oversized jacket. Which is kinda… cute.Lance stifles a snort at that thought. ‘Keith’ and ‘cute’ in one sentence is something alien-like, they don’t fit together. **––One day Keith's hair turns white, with the help of Shiro he manages to hide it from the others, but after Shiro is gone, Keith is alone with this big secret of his.Until Lance discovers his secret and helps keeping it.––More a hint towards Klance





	It’s not always only black and white

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh, I wanted to write a short tribute to the topic of Keith with white hair, and look at this monster of a one shot. Ay. I’ve seen so much wonderful fanart with Keith sporting white hair, and I practically had to write this.  
> Although I meant to take a break from writing. *sighs* ┐(´∇｀)┌

Keith has always been a secretive guy, a loner, kept to himself, wanted to do everything on his own, didn’t wanna give a quiznack about teamwork. But he got better over time–with Shiro always pushing him to trust his teammates more and everything. And it really helped with Voltron when that stubborn mullet-headed Mr. Hotshot worked with them. 

And Lance could accept him as a teammate… as a friend.

But after the mission on Balmera Keith acted funny again, a lot like his old self–he still worked with them but Lance got the feeling, that he kept even more from them.

And somehow it got worse after Shiro disappeared. Their leader was the only one who could make Keith open up, probably even talk about what was bothering him. But now that Shiro’s gone and left Keith as their new leader, Lance feels obligated to find out what Keith is hiding. For the benefit of their team, Voltron and the whole universe. 

****

****

Keith hasn’t been the type of guy who cared about his looks, neither concerning his hair nor his outfit. He just focused on his fighting skills and keeping his body fit. 

But all that changed after the rescue mission on Balmera, after he absorbed some of this strange golden liquid–quintessence. It did something to him, particularly his _hair._ At first nothing seemed wrong, he discovered a single white hair between the mop of black. Not worrisome, after all Shiro came back with a white forelock and fighting for the universe is a very stressful job, therefore it didn’t face him to find a single strand. As long as it didn’t spread.

Which it did. After months of missions and his discovery of his Galra heritage. The morning after returning from the base of the Blade he found a whole bunch of white hair under the layers of black. And it slowly started to freak him out. He didn’t want to turn Galra, not with Allura detesting his whole being after that discovery. 

He needed to do something about it, because in all honesty, having white hair as a human-galra hybrid is _not_ good. 

The look suits Allura, but not him. 

So he thought about his options and chose to talk to Shiro about this issue. 

**

“That is really strange”, the older man admitted, after examining the mass of white locks under the black. Keith had tied everything together to not let a strand accidentally peek out beneath. “Any other symptoms or is it just the color?”

“Just the color.“ He’s glad that Shiro doesn’t ask him about the color change in other regions… one half heart attack is enough for him after seeing the white locks above his dick. At least they got razors. But cutting off his hair and going bald is not an option for him.

“Hm, why don’t you ask Coran? Maybe he got something.” Keith opens his mouth to voice the issue that the Altean could tell Allura about that, but Shiro seems to come to the same conclusion and adds, “I can ask him, if he got something for _my_ hair. It’s also naturally black.” The smile on his lips is caring, eyes crinkling and Keith feels his heart swell with fondness for this man. He never really had a family, but Shiro is like a brother to him.

“Thanks”, he breathes out, and ducks his head away from Shiro’s hand. He might be family, but he still doesn’t like him ruffling through his hair.

“I will come to your room.”

And with that Keith’s problem will hopefully be solved.

****

Coran indeed had something akin to dye, the Altean equivalent. 10000 years old powder. Which had to be massaged into wet hair, then wrapped up and left alone overnight. Keith followed the instructions and in fact the next morning his hair is back to black. At least the one on his head. 

Coran didn’t mention how long it would be effective and Keith hoped that if he focused on being human, his Galra side would stay latent. 

****

Quiznak, it got worse. Like really worse. Not only has Shiro vanished into thin air, but the Altean hair dye is used up and his hair is starting to get back to white. Like, _all_ of his hair! 

Over the month he dyed it, the strands splayed and now every single strand is turning white. 

_Quiznack, quiznack, quiznack!_

Okay, chill, breathe, don’t freak out. What are his options, talking to Coran and revealing that the dye was for him… no. They got enough issues already.

He’s still not entirely ready to be a leader–to replace Shiro–and revealing that he’s fighting to stay human the whole time is something he’s especially not ready to. 

He could take a trip to the space mall and search for some dye on his own, and hoping that this crazy Galra mall cop won’t be after him again. But they are not close to the planet and convincing the others to take a trip just for enjoyment isn’t an option.

Which leaves him with… nothing. 

Quiznack.

****

To his inconceivable luck they had a rescue mission on a planet, where everything was _black–_ hence the name _Nigrum_. After defeating a fleet of Galra they landed on the ground and talked about an alliance with the residents. During the feast in honor of Voltron they told them that the plants on the planet are the cause for everything being black. And Keith had the glorious idea to harvest some of the plants to use them as dye. 

**

Turns out it was none of his best ideas, not in the least. He grinds the plants to get their juice, which is entirely black and semi-fluid, not to forget they reek like rotten food. Luckily they got adjoining bathrooms to their quarters. 

So nobody gets to see his pathetic attempt at putting this nasty, stinking stuff into his white and black hair, at this point he looks like an _oreo_. He doesn’t know how long it takes, but at some point he got every strand covered in this ooze-like stuff and now waits for it to take effect. He wraps a towel around his head and starts to clean up the mess he made of his bathroom. 

And to his horror he discovers that the spots touched by the ooze won’t change their color back. Now his bathroom is covered in black splotches, like measles. 

Quiznack.

**

The next morning Keith unwraps with shaking fingers the towel around his head, which kept the ooze from staining his bed. The towel, he knows, is ruined. To not let the color stain his skin, he kneels at the edge of the shower stall and washes his hair. Black water runs down the drain and after some time it finally stays transparent. Keith gets another towel to dry his hair and slowly steps over to the mirror over the sink. 

Black. His hair is _black_. No trace of white. A victorious grin adorns his lips, nearly creaking his cheeks. He did it!

****

****

Yeah, Keith really was acting funny, like at some point he just didn’t take his helmet off anymore, not even after training, which Lance knew is awful with all that sweat running down on the skin, _yikes_. 

He mentioned it to the others, but they just shrugged and presumed that this was some kind of coping method for losing Shiro and that Lance shouldn’t bother.

But he _did_ , to his own surprise. He made up his mind to talk about this issue with Keith, but as sudden as the odd behaving came it was gone in the same way. 

He was training in his normal clothes again, walking around in his armor but without the helmet on. 

So Lance didn’t approach him. 

**

Some weeks later after Keith is behaving normal again, they are currently training in teams. Hunk and him against Keith and Pidge. The latter team wins, but it was close call. 

“Next time, it’s your ass that kisses the ground, mullet-head”, he hollers at their new leader, which earns him a chuckle from the boy. Lance ignores the little skip in his heartbeat. He waits for the other to turn his back on him to get a look at him without being caught. He has to admit, that Keith does look nice. From his nicely shaped legs, to his thin waist, with this buff upper body and ripping biceps and–

Lance blinks in his secretly examination. Keith is sporting a black top, which leaves the expanses of his shoulders bare, shoulders which should usually be fair skinned and not… black. “Why are your shoulders covered in black?”, he wonders out loud, now getting everyone’s attention.

The raven stiffens visibly, before he takes a look for himself. And Lance swears he sees panic reflect in his ruby orbs. “Uh, some of the food goo must have spilled into my hair this morning.” It’s a lame retort. True, Hunk experimented with new kinds of food goo in colors, but never has he seen goo this intensive black. 

“I’m finished for the day”, Keith announces and hastily makes his retreat before Lance has the chance to further interrogate him about that.

**

And Keith is back to acting funny again. But this time he won’t even eat with them, choosing to eat alone in his room. The quiznack.

Everyone gives him these suspicious looks like _he_ has done something to make the mullet mad. Excuse them, it’s not his fault. This time. 

“Stupid mullet with his stupid issues”, he grumbles to himself at two in the morning because he can’t fall asleep thanks to that quinacking mullet. 

Maybe looking at the stars will help him get sleepy. So he gets up, slips on his blue lion slippers and reaches for his jacket… which is not at the place it’s supposed to be. Oh, right, he took it off at dinner and probably forgot it on his chair. 

Rubbing over his tired eyes, because now he has to walk to the kitchen and then up towards his favorite watching point, well done Lance. 

From the distance Lance can make out light in the kitchen, apparently someone got hungry for a midnight snack. His slippers drag over the surface as he reaches the doorframe of the kitchen. “Well good evening, someone must be really hun–”, only to discover that nobody is there besides him. His eyes search through the room and come to a stop at his table, where his chair stands, with no trace of his jacket left. 

**

The next morning comes, but nobody has seen his precious jacket, except Keith, who is absent. Again. Therefore Lance marches up to the quarters of the pilot of the red lion, but after some minutes of futile knocking and calling without getting a response, he deems that the man in question isn’t in his room. 

Maybe the training deck. But a distress signal beats him to his investigation. 

Turns out Keith was already in the Black Lion as the others make their way to theirs. But Lance got the feeling that the raven would have preferred to sit in _Red_ for whatever he’s going through again, but Lance is now her pilot, which means a confrontation is likely to happen during an emergency like now.

And somehow Lance can relate, because he misses sitting in _Blue_ and talking to her in his mind. _Red_ is nice and all, but Lance still feels traces of Keith’s mind within her and it feels like an intrusion in his privacy if he focuses on connecting with _Red_. 

He wants to get to know Keith through talking to him, wants to be better friends with him, maybe even more… but that’s something left for the future. 

****

****

He gives up, he can’t fight this change anymore. This hiding from everyone exhausts him, both mentally and physically. That nobody came to talk to him by now about his strange behavior is a miracle. 

Or not, the person who usually came to talk to him and comfort him, is _gone_. 

Lance is the only one of the bunch who came close to comforting him, once. And he feels a tiny bit guilty for snitching his jacket from the kitchen just a few moments ago before being caught at sneaking a midnight snack. He didn’t get to eat dinner that day. That was entirely too close for his liking. 

Pulling the hood of the jacket he’s currently wearing more over the mop of white hair, he spoons a few more bits of food goo into his mouth before he puts the bowl to the side and slumps against the wall beside him, face angled up to gaze at the outer space at the other side of the big window of the castle. He found the spot a few weeks ago through his wandering around the castle in hope of making himself sleepy when training wouldn’t work. Overworking himself is not good for his body, he knows that without Shiro reminding him every time about it. 

A small ache throbs in his chest, thinking about Shiro hurts, _a lot_. 

****

****

He feels cold without the warmth of his reliable jacket, which is seen in his slouchy posture during  his walk through the castle ship. He contemplated to return to his quarters and forget about stargazing, but he knows that he’ll just end up rolling around on his mattress in search for sleep. Maybe freezing half to death will make him sleepier. 

After minutes of walking he finally reaches his favorite watching post for stargazing, only to discover that somebody else is currently occupying _his_ spot. And on top of that the person is wearing _his_ jacket! 

“Hey, garment thief, you’re busted! Give me back my jacket!”, he hollers, which is a mistake, because his outburst only makes the person attentive of his presence. Said person promptly jumps up to bolt from the scene, without so much as a glance towards him. He’s got the hood on but with just six occupants on the ship and judging by the height and build it can only be Keith. The man who has been dodging confrontation from him for quite some time now. And is currently bolting again, well done, Lance.

“Hey, stop!” He yells and promptly chases after him, which isn’t easy with Keith wearing his boots and Lance wearing slippers, _quiznack_. But he still got a few more inches on him, due to his longer legs, and after abandoning the precious slippers–which he will get back after this whole mess–he manages to close the distance between them. Only a few seconds more and his fingers get a grip on one of the sleeves of his jacket. He grimaces as he starts to pull, praying that he won’t rip the garment in the process.

What he’s not prepared for is Keith suddenly spinning around, grabbing his wrist to wrench his outstretched arm behind his back and all but manhandle him against a wall. Lance has only a second to turn his head to the side to not get his face smashed into the surface and bust his nose.

The pain from the impact on the hard surface blooms in his chest, air momentarily knocked out of his lungs. He needs to bite onto his lower lip to hold back the howl of pain. 

“The hell, man, what’s _wrong_ with you?” He manages to ask in bewilderment after a few seconds of getting air back into his lungs, glaring down over his shoulder into the other’s face, which is lying in shadows casted from the hood. The lights in this area are not strong enough for his eyesight to make out lines on his face.

“Leave me alone!”, the shorter boy all but snarls at him, momentarily amplifying the pressure of his grip on Lance’s wrenched back arm. 

Lance is too stunned by the ferocity in his voice to protest against this brutality Keith is treating him with. He’s supposed to be a friend, not a _thread_. 

Before he has the chance to throw those words at him, the pressure against his back is gone. But Lance is nothing but insistent in what he does, and after all these months of training for battles, and actually _participating_ in battles, his reflexes have increased.

Because of this very reason he manages to turn around a second after the realization that the other man let go of him, stretches his arm out and gets a grip on the fabric of the hood. Like in slow motion he watches as the hood gives way to his hold, finally revealing what Keith desperately wanted to hide, a mop of shaggy white hair.

“Holy _quiznack!_ ”

****

Cat’s out of the bag. Guess he was lucky to not being caught sooner. And by Lance of all people. He can already imagine what he’ll say, some stupid lines about his mullet. Nothing new for him, but for Keith it will hurt. Because this time he’s going to care about what the other will say.

Therefore he heaves out a heavy sigh from his nose and slowly turns around, preparing himself to face the mockery of the other man he’s somehow grown fond of over the last few months. 

If the situation wasn’t so dire, he would surely laugh about the stupid expression on Lance’s face–eyes unbelievable wide, mouth hanging open. 

Keith stiffens his shoulders, hands pushing into the pockets in the front of the jacket. “Go on, I’m dying to hear some stupid jokes about my new hairstyle”, he says in a deadpan voice, shrugging one shoulder in a forwarding motion for the other to start.

What he doesn’t expect is Lance closing his mouth and staying silent with his eyes fixed on him in observation. He can virtually see the realization dawn on his face, like he finally understands something about him. Keith has to avert his eyes under that scrutinizing gaze.

The pitter patter of naked feet alerts him to whip his gaze back up at the other man, body getting ready for a fight by default. Lance seems to realize that and stops a foot away, open hands raised in front of him. Keith can’t make out the look on his face; it’s not mirth, but what it exactly is, he doesn’t know. Another surprise is the careful move of Lance’s hand to capture his wrist, grip not strong, Keith can easily escape, but something in the look the other gives him–friendly and open, which he doesn’t deserve after his brutal treatment a moment ago–makes him stay put.

A small tuck and the words, “C’mon, let’s sit down, my feet are getting cold”, is all he needs to follow the other boy back to the observation post. Lance doesn’t let go of his hold the whole way.

****

To be frank, seeing Keith with white hair gave him a little heart attack at first, which he should be excused from, because c’mon, everyone would freak out a little after seeing that. And Lance is very proud of himself for not letting something stupid slip from his lips, because obviously Keith is anxious about his new look–which is by the way not an adjective he would have thought to describe this mullet-head with, not ever. Keith doesn’t do anxious, or self-doubting, except that somehow over the past months without Shiro being here, Keith has shown traits of himself which Lance hasn’t imagined he could have. 

It makes the superstar from the garrison appear even more like a normal human boy, well _half_ -human. He’s part Galra and yeah, that’s probably the cause of this change and the cause for his behavior. Stupid mullet-head.

They are back in Lance’s spot, sitting side by side–at a friendly distance–both gazing up at the outer space, both not having spoken one word after arriving. Lance is still freezing in just his PJs, but refuses to demand his property back, because Keith actually needs it more right now. 

He’s back to his stoic, closed off self, hood back over his head to hide the white tresses, hands buried deep in the front pockets. He looks entirely too small in Lance’s oversized jacket. Which is kinda… cute. 

Lance stifles a snort at that thought. ‘Keith’ and ‘cute’ in one sentence is something alien-like, they don’t fit together. His chest still aches from the collision with the wall. He’ll probably have nice bruises in the morning. Thanks to that stupid mullet, who still looks cute with this new white hair, wearing _his_ jacket. “Quiznacking, quiznack”, he curses out loud, ruffling through his hair in an attempt to get rid of these stupid fluffy feelings in his chest. He doesn’t need that. Ever.

Keith has turned to give him a funny look, probably thinking that Lance is behaving stupid because of his look. But from an entirely different, bad way.

“This was a bad idea. I’m out of here.” Keith gets ready to stand up, but Lance shoots out a hand to grab onto Keith’s lying on the ground between them. A second later he reels back, cheeks exploding in color at the touch. Really smooth, Lance.

“P-please, don’t”, he scrambles to say, trying to get his coolness back, but also noticing Keith taking his hand back and rubbing over it with the other. He seems to also be flustered. Wait what?

Curiosity getting the better of him, he pushes an arm out to lean forward, invading the other’s personal space to get a proper look at his face. 

He hears Keith take a sharp intake of breath before he whips his head to the other side hastily. Quiznack, the hood is still making it difficult to see his expression. 

But Lance wouldn’t be Lance if he doesn’t take risks to get what he wants. Therefore he takes Keith’s momentary distraction to grab the hood with his free hand and pull it off in one swift move. 

And he finally sees the hint of a blush on the fair skin of the other boy, when he turns back around to probably throw an insult at Lance for pulling off the hood once more. 

And Lance has to admit that a flustered Keith, with white hair and white eyebrows, throwing a murderous death glare at him, is entirely adorable. It’s probably not helping the other boy that he tries and fails to stifle the sheepish grin spreading on his lips. He just can’t help it to not tease his former self-proclaimed rival. It’s not mockery, just flirty teasing. 

Before Keith thinks about bolting again, he finally leans back to his original position, head facing the outer space again. He waits until Keith has settled back himself before he starts. “You know there are only a few people who can rock white hair.”

Keith scoffs beside him. “How many people do you know?”

He holds up one hand, one finger raised, “Allura–”

“Obviously”, Keith interjects in a mocking tone, which earns him a glowering look from the brunet.

Another finger is added, “Lotor–”

“You think that _Lotor_ looks good?” Now Keith seems outraged. Lance probably would feel the same, but he wants to be honest. So here’s his honest opinion.

“Duh, apart from him being creepy and bad and all, you have to admit that he _is_ good-looking.” The look on Keith’s face is still murderous and Lance feels himself deflate, arms crossing in front of his chest in a defensive motion. “Ugh, _fine_ , I take it back. Lotor is not handsome, definitive a quicknacking asshole, who’s gonna get his ass kicked by us. Happy?” 

Keith averts his gaze again, hand ruffling through his hair, seemingly content with his outburst. Lance rolls his eyes at his behavior and stays silent. He has run out of people anyways. The silence only lasts a minute before it’s broken by Keith. Lance watches the other boy fiddle with a lock of his white hair, seemingly still flustered about his prompting earlier. “Did you want to add anything?”

The brunet purses his lips, contemplating if adding Rolo to the list would make Keith mad again. He decides against it. “No, not really. Guess I still don’t know many people yet.” He offers a grin but is surprised by the dejected expression on the other’s face. Okay, change of plan. “Wait, there’s one more”, he adds and crosses his legs in front of himself to brace his arm on them for support. He waits until the other turns his eyes back on him. He doesn’t imagine the hopeful gleam in them, does he? A slow smile spreads over his lips as he raises his free hand to point a finger gun at him, “You.”

For a moment Keith looks baffled, the usually serious lines on his face have gone slack from surprise. As it slowly dawns on him that Lance is indeed serious about what he said, and _how_ he said it, the blank expression turns disbelieving. “Wait a minute, did you seriously just flirt with me?” 

Lance shrugs sheepishly, feeling his cheeks heating up. He’s surprised by the snort from Keith’s nose as he shakes his head, but the mirth reflecting in his expression is honest. And Lance feels his face split from a toothy grin as he beams up at him, chest swelling with emotion from the fact that _he_ made Keith laugh about this issue, which he fought with alone for all these passed months. 

His eyes wander back to the mop of white hair, a stark contrast to the usual dark look Keith sports. It makes him look more friendly, approachable, not like he would slice your throat open after just one wrong uttered word. The longer he gazes at the locks, the more the urge to touch sprouts in his mind, fingers twitching at the thought already. It already did look soft when it was black, but now it locks enticing, practically screaming to be caressed. By Lance…

“You have something to say, _sharpshooter_?” 

Lance’s eyes meet Keith’s, the violet hue overpowering the usual red, the corner of his lips quivering in an attempt to stifle the smile forming on his lips. He’s teasing him, body turned in his direction, arm braced on a bent knee with the hand supporting his cocked head. From this angle he has to look up at Lance, which he doesn’t seem to mind for once. His neck is stretched on the upper side, fair skin covered by tresses of beautiful white hair.

Holy quiznack, he’s flirting back. There’s no way that Keith doesn’t know what he’s doing… right? Momentarily stunned with the thought, mind running rampant what it could possibly mean, he’s pulled back from his thoughts when the other attempts to pull the hood back over his head. 

“C-can I touch it?”, he practically yells the question in his haste. 

It has Keith halting in his movement, fingers still wrapped around the garment but not moving it anymore over his head. He looks surprised again. And then the fair skin of his cheeks is tinted yet again with a rouge-like color. And yet again Lance feels something swell in his chest. 

A shaking sigh escapes the other boy’s lips as he lets go of the hood, hands falling down into his lap, he has crossed his legs in a similar position like Lance. And to Lance’s utter astonishment he scoots around until his back is facing Lance. “Go on”, he hears the softly uttered words, which he just barely made out through the thrumming heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Sweat gathers at the nape of his neck, all of a sudden he’s nervous; feeling similar like in the moment of an upcoming battle. But this isn’t a battle of life and death, it’s just stupid Keith with his mullet turned stupidly pretty.

Groaning inwardly over his sappy line of thoughts, he eventually manages to scoot closer until his shins bump into the small of Keith’s back. The mop of unruly hair is just a few inches in front of him, calling out to him with its enticing glow. His fingers itch again at the prospect of finally being allowed to touch Keith’s hair–which he secretly wanted to do for months.

His eyes trail down from the tresses to the shoulders half-covered by them, down over the wide back–rigid from the tension in his muscles–from the rib-caste towards the narrow waist, where his shins touch the part. 

As he feels the nervousness creep up his neck, he bites his lip and reaches a hand out before he can think about backing off. He’s Lance, the lady-charmer, and here he sits and gets nervous about touching Keith’s godawful mullet. What’s wrong with him?

The first thing he notices is the softness of the hair, not a single strand being coarse, what would usually happen after such a long time of dying it. The second thing is, the longer his fingers brush through the hair, the more he’s realizing that the other boy starts to relax in his posture. Which he takes as a sign to keep going. Softly trailing his fingers through the hair in a somewhat massaging motion. 

The shoulders in front of him heave, before they slump down and he notices Keith tilting his head a little more backwards in his direction. Lance would really like to see what kind of face he’s making at this moment. But in fear of breaking this moment–whatever moment it is–he stays put and continues his ministration.

He doesn’t know how many minutes run by but at some point he feels his eyes get droopy, a yawn making its way over his lips. Oh yeah, they are supposed to be asleep right now. He totally forgot that. “I think it’s time to head back to bed now. Hard to keep my eyes open”, he breaks the comfortable silence which had settled around them.

He watches Keith’s posture go stiff again as he prepares to get up himself, but Lance beats him to it, nearly getting whiplash by how fast he stood up, and offers the other boy a hand.

Violet orbs muster his outstretched hand, seeming to ponder if declining the offer would be rude. He halfway expects him to just ignore his hand and stand up on his own, but to Lance’s surprise Keith really takes his hand and pulls, expecting Lance to pull, which the brunet totally forgot over his surprise and nearly topples over. In the last second he manages to stay upright and pull Keith up.

Then they are just staring at each other, hands still clasped together. After a few moment it’s Keith’s turn to end both the silence and the contact from their hands. “Guess, we should really go back to bed.”

And with that they head back to their quarters together. There’s a respectable distance between them, but Lance still feels like they somehow made a little progress in their whole rivals-turning-friends-relationship. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Keith throwing the hood back over his head to hide his hair again. Right, they still got to talk about that hair issue. “So, what are you gonna do about your hair?”

The other boy shrugs, hands buried in the front pockets, eyes fixed on his moving feet. Again he looks too small in the jacket and Lance stifles the urge to throw an arm over his shoulder and pull him into his side for a half-hug. He knows Keith doesn’t like hugs–at least not from him. “I need to find a new hair dye. I’m still not ready for the other’s to see me like this.”

Lance cocks his head to the side in thought. “Hm, I could ask the residents of _Nigrum_ if they can show me how to use their plants. I got a date with some of the chicks tomorrow anyway. Luckily we could persuade Allura to give us a free day tomorrow”, he throws him a grin and a wiggle with his eyebrows, which the other counters with a suspicious raise of his eyebrows.

“You’d do that for me?” Why does he sound so disbelieving?

“Course, man! If it makes you uncomfortable to let the others know about your hair, I’ll help keep your secret. We’re teammates.”

They reach Keith’s room first and when the boy attempts to pull the jacket off, Lance raises a hand to stop him. “I’m pretty sure that nobody will give a flying quiznack about your hair, but if it makes you feel better you can keep the jacket. Just as a loan. I want it back, understood mullet?”

He doesn’t know what makes the butterflies in his heart flutter more, the twitch in the corners of Keith’s lips or the low endearing snort from him.

To overact this sudden feelings he raises his hand in a mock salute. “See you tomorrow evening. I’ll come to your room.” With that he turns around to continue his way, but is stopped by a hand on his arm. Half-way turning around he looks at the other boy curiously. 

Keith’s eyes are trained on his boot, which is shuffling at the ground. It seems like he wants to add something, so Lance waits patiently. “Thanks, Lance”, he raises his head to lock eyes, “for understanding and helping. It means a lot to me. Goodnight.” And just like that he turns towards his door and enters his room after it slid open. 

Lance is left stupidly blinking at the spot the other occupied a moment ago. 

****

He makes good on his promise the following day. Charming his way into the hearts of the local residents of the Planet _Nigrum_ is one of his specialities. It doesn’t take much sweet talk to get the recipe for a proper dye from the ladies. It _is_ in the plants, but they need to be cooked out for their juice to be used to dye something. Otherwise the color will seep out after a few days again. Which probably happened to Keith as Lance remembers the incident after training during his flight back from the planet. 

He got a whole bottle of dye and a pod with a plant to use for later. The chicks told him how to take care of the plant, and Lance got enough free space in his room for it. If the others start to ask questions he can just tell them he liked the color and wanted to feel a little more homey with acquiring his room with a potted plant.

Plus, it will mean that Keith will have to come to him if he needs new dye. 

A low purr in his mind breaks him out of his train of thought. It’s _Red._

“Yeah, I know, girl, you’re worried too. But I’m sure that after Shiro’s return Keith will tell the others about it. Until then I’ll be there for him.”

Upon entering the hangar of the red lion, Lance is surprised to find someone already waiting for them. The figure is sitting on one of the boxes, in which they keep the equipment for cleansing of the lions, and according to the figure wearing Lance’s jacket it can only be Keith. 

_Red’s_ mind is going wild at seeing her old paladin. She misses him. But then she focuses back on Lance in an apologetic fashion–it’s not like she doesn’t like him as her new paladin, it’s just different with Keith. They’re both fiery, reckless, powerful–they match. “It’s okay, girl. I understand”, he reassures her, smile honest, because he does understand. He also misses _Blue_. But he accepts that he’ll probably never be able to pilot her again.

Before _Red_ can inquire more about the meaning of the last sentence, he exits her, bottle in hand and plant under his arm. As his footsteps echo from the ramp in the hangar, Keith looks up, already standing and moving closer. “Missed me?”, Lance jokes when they meet at the end of the ramp. 

Keith blinks, hand raising to probably ruffle through his hair, but stops midair after realizing that his hair is covered by the hood. He ends up burying both hands in the front pocket, shuffling a boot in front of the other. “I see you were successful”, he answers, completely ignoring Lance’s sentence. It’s okay.

He offers him a grin. “Yep, totally impressed the chicks. They showed me how to make the dye and even gave me the plant to harvest the dye in the future. I’ll keep it in my room. You can come if you need new dye. Wanna dye your hair right now or…”, he trails off in his speech as he notices the longing look from the other boy towards the lion in his back. _Red_ still doesn't pull the bridge back. As the good friend he is, he steps aside and motions with a nod towards the opening. “Go, I promised Hunk to help with some new recipes anyway. I’ll come after dinner to your room. You probably won’t be present. I’ll bring you some as an excuse to the others. Laters.”

And with that he confidently strides towards the exit of the hangar, not even sparring the other boy a glance over his shoulder and therefore not seeing the beguiled glinting in the other’s eyes as he watches the brunet go. 

****

It didn’t take much persuading from Lance to be nominated for bringing Keith dinner. The others were kinda at a loss of what to do because apparently Keith wouldn’t talk to one of them outside of missions. But they also seemed to accept that Keith’s behavior was the result of Shiro’s disappearance. For Keith no one seemed to be more akin to a family member as Shiro. Lance could relate. Without Hunk, who came close to a brother, he’d feel even more lonelier here. 

On his way to Keith’s room he makes a quick visit to his own to retrieve the bottle with the dye. 

The other is already waiting for him, judging by how fast the door opened after Lance had announced his presence. “First you eat dinner”, Lance instructs sternly, practically shoving the tablet with food into Keith’s hands, who seems on the verge of talking back but after a glare from the brunet he just flops down onto his bed and eats.

Meanwhile Lance saunters to the adjoined bathroom in search for some utensils for the dying process, and upon finding none he reenters the room. “Where do you have the necessary stuff?” With his mouth full the other boy just raises an eyebrow in question. “Like a bowl for the dye, a brush, something to wrap your hair in.”

Keith gulps down what he chewed and shrugs. “I just used my hands and some towels…” When the brunet blinks at him in bafflement, he hesitantly adds, “Look, I’m grateful for your help, but from here on I can manage on my own. I’ve dyed my hair before without any help.”

Lance’s eyebrows scrunch up in irritation. “I can vividly remember how your last try went.” He raises his free hand and starts to rub at his forehead. “Just let me help you. I’ve assisted my sisters in dying their hair, I know what I’m doing. I’ll get something from the kitchen.” He places the bottle onto a cupboard. But before he leaves the room, he turns to give the other boy a look, “Stay put, mullet. Don’t touch the bottle.”

Said boy shoots him a glare. “I’m not a dog”, he says back, which earns him a grin from the brunet before the door slides open and he’s gone again.

****

****

He could have done it on his own, really. He could’ve just locked his door and ignored the boy banging on his door, while he dyed his hair. But for one, it was Lance who got the recipe for the dye and he even got a plant to harvest from for the future and second, it kinda felt nice when he let Lance brush his hair yesterday night, so maybe letting him do the dye job will also feel good. Plus Keith wouldn’t need to fear that he missed some spots when he’d do it on his own. Therefore he stays on the bed, eats his dinner and waits for his teammate to return. 

Said boy comes back after ten minutes, looking winded but successful in his search. Keith has finished his dinner and is currently busy with cleaning the blade of his mother and looks up at the heavy breathing boy with a raised eyebrow.

“Pidge wouldn’t leave me alone, that little pest”, Lance explains, dropping the stolen goods onto the bed. “Asking what I was needing all that stuff for. Hunk at least knows when I wanna do something in private and refrains from asking. I had to do a full run through the whole deck to get her off my tracks. _I_ don’t keep pestering her when she wants to do something in private.”

The nagging monologue goes on for a few more minutes where Keith just listens, eyes glinting amusedly and hiding the snickers behind the hand he’s leaning his head against. From the talking about the others he gets a pang in his chest, realizing how much he misses spending time with them and not worrying about his secret. His eyes follow Lance’s figure as the boy gathers the necessary tools and carries them over towards the bathroom. At least he got one less teammate to worry about. 

“You comin’?”, comes Lance’s voice from the bathroom as he peeks his head between the doorframe. 

Keith stands up and joins the other boy, who’s standing next to the toilet with a towel in hand, looking expectant. “What?”, Keith asks confused.

“Take off your shirt. Or do you want stains on it? But with it being black, it probably won’t matter…”, Lance explains, cocking his head to the side in thought.

Keith rolls his eyes and pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it back towards his room before he moves to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet. “Happy?”

“Uh”, is Lance’s smart answer, blinking at him–or better his naked torso, which he has seen a dozens of time. 

Keith raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of his chest, muscles flexing involuntarily. The other lets out a squeak and before Keith can open his mouth to ask what the quicknak is wrong with him, the brunet throws the towel onto him–thanks to his crossed arms it lands onto his head–and bolts out of the room with a, “Forgot the bottle.”

The hybrid rips the towel off his head to glare at the open doorframe. Retrieving the bottle seems to be a hard endeavor for the other boy and Keith is on the verge of standing up and just throwing him out of the room, but then Lance does finally come back, albeit a little bit fidgety. Keith just rolls his eyes in an exasperated motion and covers his shoulders with the towel, turning his back on the other boy. 

“Locked the door in case of Pidge”, Lance explains, which Keith assumes is only part of the reason why he reacted like that. 

The next minutes are spend in silence, with Keith fiddling with his fingers in his lap and Lance busy with filling a bowl with the black liquid. Some more shuffling as he gets in position, bowl in one hand and brush in the other. “Ready?” 

“Yeah.” And with that Keith can finally kiss his white locks goodbye. At least for supposedly a month. 

****

The next morning Keith finally removes the towel from around his hair and washes the remaining dye out in the shower. Rubbing his hair dry with another towel he takes a proper look in the mirror and is elated at seeing his reflection, which sports _black_ hair. Lance really didn’t exaggerate when he told him about being a pro with dying hair of others.

It feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, chest not constricted by anxiety anymore. He’s finally able to breathe freely again. Thanks to Lance–stupid, loudmouthed, but also wonderful, kind-hearted and self-sacrificing sharpshooter. Former blue paladin, current pilot of _Red_ and Keith’s right hand. 

A smile forms on his lips at the prospect of seeing the smug face of said boy during breakfast when he sees the outcome of his handiwork. 

His locks are still wet when he walks into his room to get dressed for the day, the talk from the night before flickering through his mind.

**

_Some minutes into the dying process, Lance asks, “Do you miss home?”_

_With closed eyes Keith savors the tender care in which Lance works and hums in disagreement. “Not really. It’s not like anybody is waiting for me back on earth.” He makes a pause, pondering before he proceeds with his answer, “I guess the closest thing coming to be a family is Team Voltron.”_

_The fingers in his hair halt in their movement. Lance seems stunned by his honest declaration. After a moment he continues. “I miss mine. I can’t wait to finally get back home. After we defeat the Galra, which will still take some more time.” His voice grows quieter. “I got a niece and a nephew. They were still young when I left for the Garrison. Guess they won’t recognize me anymore when I return.”_

_Keith feels a lump form in his throat; he doesn’t know how to console, usually Hunk’s there to offer comfort to Lance, not him. He doesn’t know how having a family feels, doesn’t know how Lance must feel thinking about being forgotten every day. Pressing his lips together, he prepares to turn around and do at least something, but is jolted as a big cold clump is dumped onto his head without warning. “Ah, sorry”, he hears the brunet apologize meekly, the humor in his voice ultimately kills the urge in Keith to console._

_Rubbing over the crease forming between his eyebrows, he lets out a sigh. “We will defeat the Galra. And then you will return to earth with the others as heroes.”_

_A pause. “What about you?”_

_Closing his eyes he tilts his face towards his collarbone after a nudge from the other boy. He takes some time to reply, “I’ll stay here and search for my mother.”_

**

He meant what he said. There’s no place on earth for him anymore. Finding his mother and hopefully having a new place to live at her side is his next purpose after all. Saving the universe with Team Voltron–his friends, his family–is most important right now.

And nothing–not even this secret–will prevent him from achieving it. With that thought in mind he leaves his room to head for breakfast in the kitchen and to face his team for the first time without worry. 

What he doesn’t expect is to run right into the former blue paladin after rounding the next corner. Both boys stumble back in surprise and out of reflex. Keith is the first to react. “What are you doing here?”

“I wish you a good morning too, mullet.” 

Keith rolls his eyes at the overly snappish answer. “Yeah, morning. What. are. you. doing. _here?_ ”

The other boys raises a hand to rub at his upper arm. “I… wanted to check up on you”, he mumbles, looking at the side in embarrassment. 

That’s an answer Keith hasn’t counted on. Thus it leaves him with only one possible comeback, “Oh.”

Blue eyes travel over his black locks, assessing the handiwork. “Looks like it worked. Good. Uh, see you at breakfast.” And with that the brunet turns around, making a hurried step forward but at the last second Keith snaps out of his unsure mood and grabs Lance’s wrist to stop him from escaping. The other boy looks over his shoulder, eyes round, seeming precarious, which is usually not something associated with this paladin. 

And Keith certainly doesn’t like this look on him. A boisterous Lance he can handle, but with him like this… “Look”, he starts, frankly not having a clue why he had the urge to stop the boy from bolting, “thanks for your help. I’m glad to meet the others again. I… missed spending time with them. With all of you.” His eyes search through the empty hallway, not daring to meet the blue eyes. His hand releases the brunet’s wrist, slowly falling back to his side. 

Suddenly Lance turns fully around, grabbing his retreating hand in both of his own. Keith twitches at the sudden contact, he didn’t put his gloves on yet. Lance’s skin is a little colder than his, but smooth to the touch. He can feel his heartbeat accelerate for some unknown reason. When he manages to finally lift his gaze to Lance’s face, he’s surprised to find a beaming smile on his lips, blue eyes gleaming. 

“Shiro was right to choose you as our new leader.”

Keith blinks in surprise at the sudden outburst of the other boy. It’s a total change of topic. “Y-you think?”

Lance nods. “C’mon, I told the others to wait with breakfast until you join us.”

Another surprised look from the raven. “Y-you did?”

“Yep.” Lance turns around and practically drags Keith after him, dark right hand holding firmly onto the pale left hand. 

Never once letting go until they reach the kitchen, where the other members of Team Voltron are waiting for their arrival. 


End file.
